How it Should Have Happened
by shieldmaidenofmithrilhall
Summary: Harry Potter: a hormonal, emotastic mess. He had so many chances to die in the books, but it never happened. Except here. This is how it should have happened. Harry dies and Draco and Hermione get together in every story. Bonus points if Ron dies
1. Year 1

I wrote this for fun. It will be a seven chapter series, no admirable display of writing nor humor, just me plotting out my ideal plot. Feel free to flame, complain, argue, protest, or love. If you think the same thing, please do not hesistate to tell me.

Disclaimer: I have a strong anti-Harry bias. It might come through.(oh, yeah, and I own nothing).

**How it should have happened: Year 1**

Harry's broom was out of control, and it flung him around the field as the crowd looked helplessly on. Except for the Slytherins, of course, who were shouting encouragement and advice to whoever had decided to kill Harry Potter.

At the urging of Ron, Hermione ran over to light Snape's robes on fire, because only the potions master could hate Harry that much. As she was about to do so, he stopped her with a glance, saying, "Miss Granger, would you risk expulsion on your friend's behalf?"

She paused to consider. "No sir. No I don't think so."

"No?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I thought Griffindors were loyal."

"Well, to be absolutely honest, sir, he's a bit of a prat. And rather annoying."

"Really?" He stared at her for a moment, and then said, "Well then, Miss Granger, if you're going to light me on fire, go ahead, but just know it's not me doing the spell casting."

Her eyes grew wide. "Who is it, sir, so that I might light them on fire?" She sighed. "Not that I really want to. But his death shouldn't be on the faculty's hands."

"That, I cannot tell you." And Snape turned back around and leaned towards Professor Quirrel.

"I know I owe his blasted father something, but I really hated James Potter. And the boy certainly isn't making the world a better place. Just Avada him. You know you want to. Everybody's doing it."

Quirrel looked at him. "I think I will. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry dropped from his broom and fell, landing on Ron who was in the middle of the Quidditch field for some reason unbeknownst to the author. Needless to say, Ron died from the force of Harry falling on him. (Because force mass times acceleration (in this case, due to gravity), if Harry weighed 110 pounds, the impact force would be 1078 N. That's a lot of force).

Hermione would have run onto the field, if she hadn't caught Malfoy staring at her. She began blushing and absentmindedly began to fix her hair.

They were dating by the end of the week.

Of course, that's not how it _really _happened. The Boy-Who-Should-Have-Taken-A-Hint lived another year…


	2. Year 2 Part 1

_Disclaimer: I do not labor under the misaprehension that I own HP or that this is an amazing chapter. But I like it._**  
**

**Year 2, Part 1**

Harry and Ron watched as the rest of the Weasley clan walked through the brick wall to Platform 9¾.

"Ready, Harry?" Asked Ron.

"Yes, Ron," said Harry. "I'm ready."

They ran towards the brick wall and the carts rebounded against the surface, but the inertia of Harry and Ron carried them forward, and they crashed into the wall. As Harry felt the blood roll down his face, he glanced at Ron, who was gurgling. He then thought of his beloved friend Hermione, and how she would take the news…

… "Miss Granger, I have something I must speak to you about," said Dumbledore, walking by the Griffindor table. "Please come into my office after dinner."

As Hermione walked up the steps to the headmaster's office, she passed Snape coming from it. He was humming.

"I couldn't be happier, thank goodness," he mumbled under his breath. "Oh, Miss Granger. Dumbledore needs to speak with you. And…one hundred points for Griffindor." The potions professor walked away as quickly as he had come, singing, "Ding, dong, the Witch is Dead." Hermione thought she saw him click his heels.

"Miss Granger," began the headmaster, when she was properly situated inside his office. "I have grave news. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley had an accident. They are both…dead. I'm sorry."

Hermione sat still on the large red leather chair for a moment and gazed at the ceiling.

Then, very quietly, she asked, "Are you sure?"

The old man nodded. "I'm afraid so."

She jumped up. "Then you'll be the first to know. Draco and I have been dating since last year, but we didn't want to tell anyone because they'd try to kill him. Now I don't have to live a lie anymore!" She kissed Dumbledore on the cheek and ran out of his office.

Draco was waiting around the corner.

"Great news!" she cried as he slung his arm around her. "We don't have to pretend anymore!"

"I heard. And I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't be. There time has come."

They walked in silence before Draco spoke again. "So, are you going to ask to transfer to Slytherin?"

"Are you kidding, Malfoy? You couldn't pay me to transfer!" He kissed her with snake-like speed. "Well, I'll think about it."


	3. Year 2 Part 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns the Characters, Queen owns "Another One Bites the Dust", and the Monkees own "Last train to Clarksville. And I have a very strong anti-harry bias. You've been warned.**

** It's back, it's longer, and it's better than ever. Love it or hate it, I doesn't matter.  
**

Year 2 Part 2

Check it out: Harry's made it another year. Not for long…

"You lost me my slave boy," roared Lucius Malfoy, pulling on the snake head of his cane and revealing a wand.

Harry goggled at him. He'd survived Tom Riddle only to be killed by a vengeful Malfoy? Not on his watch.

"Avada Kedavr-"

"Ahhhh!" screamed Harry, ducking like only a twelve year old can. "Help! He's going to kill me!"

In his office, Dumbledore turned up his iPOD, which was currently playing "Another One Bites the Dust."

"Dumbledore won't come save you now, Potter," whispered Lucius spitefully. "Avada Kedavr-"

Suddenly, a flash of light filled the halls of Hogwarts and Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco, and Blaise Zabini appeared.

"No!" cried Ron, grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging her over to help Harry. Draco and Blaise crossed quickly to the other side of the corridor, Ginny in tow, and began a rousing cry of "Lucius! Lucius! Lucius!" in the background. (Of course, Ginny didn't cheer with them, but it could have been sorely tempting).

"How did you get here?" asked Harry, temporarily distracted from his impending death.

"Granger's bloody time turner," barked Malfoy from across the room, but as he dusted his shoulder off, Harry noticed he didn't look too angry. He glanced up at Hermione (she had never been tall, but she was a seventh year now, and was much taller than his second year self). She had a strange smile on her face. Harry put it down to the fact that Ron had grabbed her arm. Everyone knew there was sexual tension between them.

"We got in a bit of a fight and Hermione's time turner got turned," answered Ron, glaring at Malfoy in general and Zabini in particular.

"What about?" asked Harry. He figured that as long as he distracted Lucius, he could live.

"Ron can't accept that Blaise and Ginny are dating," said Hermione, shrugging her shoulders.

"WHAT?"

"Three months now, Potter," said Blaise, bending over to kiss his girlfriend.

"What about us, sweetums?" asked Draco, in a singsong voice that made both Ron and his father wince. Hermione merely rolled her eyes.

"And Draco and I are trying to date as well. We fight a lot, but we've got a whole year as heads together, so we've got a lot of time."

"They make a cute couple," said Ginny.

Harry looked like he was going to die. Which, as a matter of fact, he was.

"I hate to interrupt in this reunion, but I have a boy to kill," said Lucius.

"No, don't kill him," begged Ron. "He's my best friend."

"It's too bad I hate you then, Weasley," said Lucius, a smirk forming on his pale features. "Avada Kedavra!"

"No!" screamed Ron, as he jumped in front of the beam of green light.

"Ron!" Screamed Harry, as he watched his friend fall limply to the ground. He turned angrily towards Lucius, wand raised (he'd apparently forgotten it before). "Avada-"

"Expelliarmus," said Hermione, rolling her eyes, dragging Ron's body out of the hallway.

"Hermione! He killed Ron!"

She stared down at her expired friend's body. "Yeah, well, better him than me, you know?"

"Are you crazy?" demanded Harry in a hoarse whisper.

"Probably. I've been you're friend for too long. Look Harry, Ron was a git with no potential for mental capacity. Let it go."

"Ginny!" cried Harry desperately, looking for support as Lucius was glancing at his watch, tapping his foot impatiently.

"What, Harry?" she asked, tearing her mouth away from Blaise's for a minute. "Oh. Well, he always wanted to die for you." She went back to her business.

"As much as I love a show…" drawled Lucius, "I'm a busy man and I need to kill Mr. Potter here. Miss Granger, will you be saving him next?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, then stared across the corridor and locked eyes with Draco. "I don't think so," she said, tossing Harry's wand back to him, crossing over to stand next to her boyfriend. "You see, Mr. Malfoy, I'm in a somewhat steady relationship, I'm almost head girl, and I'm not willing to throw it away for a boy who becomes a prat in a few years."

He sneered at Harry's flabbergasted expression. "I don't really blame you, Miss Granger. Any last words, Mr. Potter?"

"You-you traitor! You're worse than, than both of them!" sputtered Harry. "You should have been in Slytherin."

"I wouldn't mind it, love," Draco whispered in her ear.

"You see, Harry, this is what I'm talking about. You and Ron always bossed me around and yelled and fussed and screamed over nothing, when I was the only normal person among you. Neither of you could find common sense with a compass!"

"And this is what you really think of me?" asked the poor, second year Harry looking up at his seventh year best friend, who currently had his seventh year worst enemy's arms wrapped around her waist.

"Yes," she said softly. "Goodbye, Harry."

Merciless though she was, Hermione buried her head in Draco's shoulder when Lucius finally said the incantation.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry's body fell to the floor, and his spirit went off to join Lily and James in paradise, where they could be a happy family while he was still a sweet kid.

Hermione turned back around and looked at Harry. "You know," she said to the room in general, "they only used me for my brains."

Draco smirked. "I could use you for…other things."

"In that case, I don't think I could decline," smiled Hermione, letting him kiss her hand.

"Draco!" They turned to see a rather pale looking Lucius.

"What is it?"

"Just…" the death eater lost conviction. "Just never say that in front of me again. After all, I am your father." And Lucius Malfoy apparated, though no one was quite sure how he managed it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Dumbledore was rocking out to "Last Train to Clarksville."

Draco glanced over at Blaise and Ginny, who were necking it. "Get a closet," he hollered good-naturedly.

"As long as we're stuck here," Blaise said, smirking. Ginny nodded.

Draco and Hermione quickly followed suit. By the end of the day, the four were back to the future, strangely devoid of Ron and Harry (Hermione declared it was very freeing), and on their graduation day, Draco and Hermione announced their engagement. Blaise and Ginny married a year later. And Lucius Malfoy looked around the unfamiliar place he'd apparated to. He'd never seen it before, but there was a strange sign that said, "Welcome to Clarksville."

"Stupid muggles," he muttered, as he Avada-ed the whole town. And then some.

Of course, that's not how it really happened. Doby interevened, and the Boy-Who-Missed-The-Point lived on for one more year…


	4. Year 3

_This is a bit sadder than the others, and a bit closer to the movie version._

Year 3:

"Look, Hermione! My dad is going to come! I _saw _him!" Harry was standing across the lake with Hermione, watching Dementors draw closer to him and Sirius.

"Harry," said his best friend pragmatically, "you're going to die. You have to do something!"

"No, Hermione. My dad is going to come." Harry looked around expectantly, but the trees showed no signs of a hidden stag. "It doesn't matter. He'll be here."

"Harry…" She stopped, watching the dementors draw closer to the stricken body of her friend. They were gliding with a definite purpose.

"Harry," she began again, more urgently, "Harry, you're father is dead. You have to save yourself."

"NO!" He screamed. "He's going to come and save me. Just you wait!"

Hermione began to wring her hands, continually glancing around her. The dementors still drew closer to Harry's body, and one of them turned to look at her, it's dark, unseen face causing chills to course down her spine.

"Harry, you have to save yourself!" she cried in desperation. "Your father is not coming back!"

He stared at the dementors getting closer. Soon it would be to late. He found he had no strength left for a rebuttal. "Maybe you're right, Hermione," he muttered.

"Aren't I always?" she shrieked. "Now hurry and cast the charm!"

"Expecto Patronum!" cried Harry, but he was trembling and the last part came out as a stutter.

"Try it again!"

"Expecto Patronum!" Not so much as a drizzle of silver mist came out of his wand.

Hermione reached into the pockets of her robes. "Here Harry, have some chocolates!"

"What?"

"Professor Lupin told me you might need it!"

Harry ate quickly, as a Dementor crouched over him, slowly lifting it's hood back.

"Harry! Say the charm now!" screamed Hermione. "Hurry, before it's too late!"

"Expecto Patroooooonunununu…." His face contorted as, across the lake, the dementor administered the kiss. Harry's voice faded into a gurgle, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Hermio…Hermi.." he whispered, fighting the feeling that his soul was being pulled through his mouth. "Ki-ll meee," was his final wheeze. The boy who lived collapsed to his knees, and Hermione saw him gasp as his soul left his lips.

"Oh Harry, I can't do it!" she wept. "You might have been annoying at times, but you were my best friend, I can't kill you."

"Bugger that!" came a voice from behind her. A head crested with white blonde hair came out of the bushes. "Potter asked to die. I couldn't say no to that."

"Please, Malfoy!" begged Hermione, "You have to. I don't want him to live like this. Or half live. It's so horrible!"

"Couldn't disobey Potter's last request," smirked Malfoy. "Avada Kedavra!"

Hermione whirled around and collapsed into Draco, sobbing into his shoulder.

Not quite knowing what to do, he patted her hair, deciding that flinging her off after he had just killed her best friend would be a bit harsh, even for a mudblood. Besides, she smelled very good. Like pear.

"Hermione," he whispered, "It's going to be alright." He guided her stiff body back up to Hogwarts, where he led her straight to the hospital ward. He stayed with her the rest of the evening, like she was a child that he felt the need to protect.

In the days that came to pass, Harry would be mourned by his friends, and Ron, in his grief (or possibly his clumsiness) would fall off the astronomy tower. Hermione was left with no one but the blonde angel, who, in one night, had come to care for her more than he thought he could.

It wasn't until their seventh year, when they were dating and sharing a dorm room (as Hogwarts Heads are rumored to), that Hermione mentioned the lone night in third year.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at her boyfriend as he sat on the couch with her, an arm around her shoulder.

"For being the best, sexiest boyfriend ever?" Draco asked, smiling at her.

"Well, that too, but for that night when you killed…"

He silenced her with a glance. "It was what he asked for."

Hermione nodded. "I know. Thank you. You saved Harry and I that night. Thank you so much, Draco Malfoy."

"If I hadn't I wouldn't be your boyfriend," he said. "And I like being your boyfriend." He bent down and kissed her nose.

"I'm glad you like being my boyfriend," she said, "because I'm not going away."

"I'd never ask you to." This time, he kissed her on the lips.

Of course, that's not how it happened. Some philosophers have speculated on the nature of time, and have settled on a theory called the Trousers of Time, that basically, in any instance, the you of each parallel universe makes a different decision and heads down a different path. JK Rowling hasn't heard about the Trousers of Time, or at least the only part of Harry Potter's story that she discovered was in the other leg of it, the other universe, where Harry lived. Take heart, reader, that somewhere, in the Trousers of Time, it happened this way. But, in Rowling's world, that Harry Potter kid narrowly escaped, and lived on for another year…


	5. Year 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. And I really really really hate Harry. No joke. He is a sorry excuse for a main character. This isn't supposed to be amazing, it's just a fun way to point out all the ways Harry could have (and should have) died over the years.**

**Now, without further ado:**

**How It Should Have Happened: Year 4**

All of Hogwarts was agog with excitement. It was time for Dumbledore to announce the contestants in the TriWizard Tournament. The student bodies of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons sat with bated breath as the old man read the papers that flew into his hand.

"Fleur Delacour."

People cheered, especially the male students.

"Victor Krum."

People cheered, especially the female students.

"Cedric Diggory."

People cheered. Just people, no one special.

"Harry Potter!!!"

People were silent.

Harry thought, "Why does this always happen to me? No wonder angst seems like the only path."

Hermione thought, "Oh bugger. He'll probably need my help. That means I get less time to 'study' with Malfoy."

Ginny thought, "What did I ever see in you? You have a highly developed death wish for one so young. Hmmm, Zabini is looking good."

Draco thought, "Damn, less 'study' time with the mudblood."

Blaise thought, "Pothead isn't dating the Weasley girl, is he?"

Ron thought, well, actually, Ron never thinks. So Ron stood up and yelled, "I thought you were my best friend, you attention seeking pig! Why didn't you tell me?."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Detention, Mr. Weasley. Harry, if you would come with me and this rather angry group of other headmasters. Severus and Minerva, because you are characters the audience recognizes, you can come to."

"Thank you, Headmaster," they said in unison, and hurried after the group of unrecognizable characters that was storming out of the Great Hall.

Somehow, all the unrecognizable characters were able to agree that Harry could participate. Harry walked down the corridor with a huge weight on his shoulders: his best friend hated him, he was probably going to die, he wasn't as smart as Hermione, he didn't have a girlfriend, his god father was a fugitive, his other father figure was a werewolf, and his parents were dead. He was seriously considering going angsty on the readers when he was pulled into an abandoned classroom.

"Potter," came a low Bulgarian growl.

"K-k-krum, is that you?" Harry asked, straining to see in the low light.

A candle was lit, and he saw the three other champions: Krum, Cedric, and Fleur standing in a circle around him. Fleur was twirling her hair nervously, and Cedric looked worried.

"We, well I, don't think you should be allowed into the tournament. You're not of age," said Krum.

"But the unrecognizable characters said I could be in it!"

"So? We're all unrecognizable characters too, and we think you shouldn't enter."

"I can't back out!"

"Then prepare to black out!" yelled Krum.

"That was such a horrible line," said Fleur scornfully, picking lint off her sleeve. "I'd hate to hear the pick-up lines you use."

"He's just a Quidditch player, Miss Delacour," said Cedric. "He doesn't need to be smart."

"Hey! I resemble that!" screamed both Harry and Krum, momentarily forgetting about their animosity.

"Anyway," began Krum, back on track, "prepare to die."

The last thought on Harry's mind as his body was beaten into a bloody pulp by a certain Bulgarian Quidditch star was "if I had gone angsty, maybe this would never have happened."

----

Of course, Harry wasn't actually beaten to death, and he showed up that first day to fight the dragon.

As he entered the arena, Harry threw a side glance at the stands. He saw Ron with Fred and George, their flaming hair a beacon in the crowd. Ginny's red hair and Gryffindor robes were currently shining in a sea of Slytherin silver and green, and she seemed to be ahem involved with one of them, though he couldn't make out who. Neither Draco nor Hermione could be found, as they had given into their hormones and were currently making out beneath the stands.

The dragon entered, and snarled fire at Harry.

"Accio Firebolt!" he called. The broom came and he jumped on, because moving targets are harder to hit.

At least, that's how the saying goes.

Harry took a straight on hit of searing flames from the dragon, who crowed triumphantly.

As the smoke cleared, Draco, who had the closest view, being on the ground level of the amphitheatre, cried out, "Cool! A Potterkebab!"

Hermione hit him.

----

Of course, everyone here who has either read the book or seen the movie knows that Harry lived to see round two:

"Harry Potter needs gillyweed!" cried Dobby. "I shall fetch some!"

In a flash, he was back, and handed Harry something that looked like seaweed. Because Hermione preoccupied and didn't warn him to try it before hand, Harry waited until the day of the second challenge to try the gillyweed.

The good news is that it worked.

The bad news is that Harry Potter is fatally allergic to gillyweed.

----

Of course, somehow this kid made it to the third round of things, the maze.

Harry and Cedric reached the cup and grabbed it together. Then there was a pulling at their navel and they were suddenly in a graveyard. The Graveyard of Dreams! Sorry, the Graveyard of Harry's Dreams (read, Nightmares). Oh no. If the reader doesn't have a bad feeling about this, they will now:

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Beside Harry, Cedric fell. For this was the Graveyard of Harry's Dreams, and Voldemort has never been called hospitable.

"Take his blood, Wormtail!"

"Yes master!"

Harry found himself held in place and watched in horror as the man who betrayed his parents cut his arm to aide the Dark Lord. It was hard to focus, as the word "angst" kept flashing in his head.

Voldemort rematerialized, and then called his followers. Lucius Malfoy, for some stupid reason, had allowed his lovely blonde hair to grow longer than the hood on his Death Eater outfit. Voldemort rolled his eyes. Some people were just stupid.

"Watch me kill Potter!" he cried, cackling with maniacal glee.

He turned to where Harry was bound. "Avada Ked-"

"Wait!" cried Harry.

"What is it?"

"Aren't you going to give me a sporting chance?"

Voldemort appeared to consider this. "If I give you a sporting chance, you will probably defeat me. After all, you have beaten me thrice already, and I am sufficiently humble to accept that a sporting chance would be stupid. And I didn't get to where I am today by being stupid."

"But you're supposed to be pompous and arrogant!" screamed Harry. "Why aren't you pompous and arrogant?"

"Don't get all angsty on me, Potter. I _am _pompous and arrogant, but if you wanted stupid as well, I suggest battling Lucius over there. Oh yes, except that you won't be able to after I'm through with you. Any last words, Potter?"

Harry hung his head. "Tell Hermione good luck with Draco, I know they've been sneaking around."

"WHAT?" screamed Lucius.

"And tell Ron I love him."

Voldemort laughed. "Well, that was unexpected. Goodbye, Potter."

"Wait, don't kill him! What do you mean, Draco and the mudblood have been 'sneaking around'?"

"Too late. Avada Kedavra."

Voldemort laughed again as Harry's head fell limply to his chest. "Dumbledore really overestimates my ego. All the better for us! And tomorrow, we take Hogwarts."

----

Of course Harry made it back to school, with Cedric's body in tow. And he lived another year. Unfortunately.


End file.
